Whiskey Breath and Cigarette Smoke
by InTheCompanyOfDragons
Summary: Sam has a few vices that he continues to turn back to, and each time there is only one person that can get him to turn it all around, Dean. Rated T for swearing and underage drinking and smoking.


Whiskey Breath and Cigarette Smoke

Sam smoked his first cigarette when he was fifteen. He remembers inhaling, choking and feeling like he couldn't catch his breath. But then once that feeling was gone, he smiled, took another drag and each time it got a little bit easier. Call it teenage rebellion or stress relief he instantly felt better, and just like that he was hooked.

When he was sixteen, they were living in some place in Wisconsin, his fifth school of his sophomore year. He was withdrawing from his family and he had added a new vice, whiskey. It is amazing what being in a family that teaches you how to make your own fake ID's could do. His father and brother didn't seem to notice, guess he wasn't important enough. It is easy to fall into a depression, and get caught up in the drinking and smoking when you feel that way.

Sam was stumbling home from a party with his latest group of friends. No matter what town they were in the outcasts and rebels were easy to make friends with. They also didn't seem to notice when you disappeared randomly one day, easy company, easy escape. His dad and Dean had been gone for the week on some hunt in a neighbouring town and he figured they would be home soon… of course he realized as he walked toward the motel, they were home earlier then he expected. He opened the door to see faces of two very pissed off hunters. Sam knew he was in for a world of trouble.

"It two o'clock in the morning Sam!" His dad yelled. "Where the hell have you been?" Dean stood off to the side staring at Sam with the same look he has been giving him a lot lately. Anger mixed with concern and sometimes a little bit of sadness.

"No where, just got a little lost on my way home from school." Sam snickered. The alcohol was obviously giving him a little more courage then usual.

"I am getting really sick of your attitude Sam." John said evenly. "Fortunately for you I am too tired from this hunt to deal with you right now. Go to bed, I will deal with you in the morning." He slammed the door that divided his room and the boys and he was gone. Sam staggered toward the bathroom knowing that his brother was going to follow him, and he sat down on the ground before he spewed the little food that was in his stomach. He had his head between his knees, when he felt Dean kneel down beside him.

"Sammy, are you okay?" Dean asked softly.

"Oh yeah Dean, I am great." I then proceeded to puke up the rest of the whiskey and whatever else was in my stomach.

"Oh yeah… you are fine. That is why you stink like whiskey and cigarettes."

"Piss off Dean, who are you to lecture me?" I looked up at him, and he looked at me with those eyes that always had too much heart, no matter how much they were hardened by the harsh world.

"Who am I Sammy? I am your brother and it is my job to make sure you are better then me. And I never smoked Sam, having a few drinks is one thing, but you are damaging your lungs, and you need those in our line of work."

"It's Sam." Sam Snarled. "You don't need to take care of me. Just leave me alone. Fuck you, and your damn work, I want no part of it." Dean looked like he had just been stabbed in the heart and he looked away from Sam.

"Lets just get you to bed… Sam." Dean lifted Sam up, put him in bed and quietly walked away.

The next morning Sam woke up feeling very hung over. That was the only part he hated about drinking, the morning after. He needed a cigarette bad, and since Dean and his dad didn't seem to be awake yet, now was probably the only chance he was going to get before the screaming match with his dad started. He looked over at Dean who even in his sleep looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and suddenly felt terrible about what he had said the night before. He looked down shamefully and walked outside.

It was a cool morning, but Sam felt warm with each drag he took. He thought about what brought him here. He hated hunting, hated everything about it. But he had a fierce loyalty to his family. He hated fighting with his dad, but he didn't know how to get the anger out of him any other way. The alcohol numbed him for a little while, made him feel better about everything, yet at the same time he felt the canyon between him and Dean growing between them as he continued to distance himself from his family. He felt the tears leak from his eyes as he began to lose the breath in his lungs.

"Sam?" Dean said from the doorway startling him. Dean looked down at his little brother and the tears he felt like he hadn't seen in years. He sat down beside Sam; feeling like maybe this might be the moment he had been waiting for. "What is going on with you lately?" Sam laughed pitifully through the tears.

"God, I dunno Dean… I am not even sure what I am doing anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I am not mad at Dad. And you have been nothing but good to me, but I am just so angry all the time. And everything that I am doing, it works for me. It makes it all go away." Sam took another puff of his cigarette and felt all the tension drain out of his shoulders. Dean looked at him.

"You are allowed to be angry Sam. You are a teenager who has been asked to carry way to much weight on his shoulders. You do not deserve what has been handed to you. But it is our life, and you have to play the cards that have been dealt to you." Sam sighed and lit another cigarette, which Dean obviously did not like, but decided to pick his battles for the moment.

"How disappointed would you be if…" Sam faltered.

"If what?"

"If I decided this isn't what I wanted to do with my life?" Dean thought about that for a moment, deciding the best way to answer.

"Sammy, I have always thought the three of us would fight this battle together, find what took mom, and then if after that we decide to stop, it would be a decision that we made together. But if this is not what you want, tell me what it is, and I will back you up, and I will let you go. As long as you promise, we won't be saying goodbye forever." Sam looked up at Dean tearfully.

"Dean, I would never say goodbye to you. I would never disappear on you." Dean smiled down at his baby brother.

"Okay, so tell me if you could do anything with your life, what would it be?"

"Anything? I would go to Stanford, probably study poli-sci until I decided exactly what I wanted to do with my life."

"Okay." Dean replied. "Then that is what you will do."

"I can't do that Dean."

"Why not Sammy?"

"Two reasons; dad will never let me go, and… I am kinda failing some subjects right now…" Sam looked down in shame. Dean thought on that for a minute.

"Well, we will get your grades back up to the 4.0 I know you can get, and we will deal with dad when the time comes. As for this whole drinking, smoking, partying Sam, it has to stop. Like right now. Put that out, come inside, face the fury that is dad and we will deal with the rest together." Sam smiled and handed Dean the rest of his cigarettes.

"Okay Dean, I will try my best." Sam stood up and brushed the dirt of his pants.

"Oh, and Sammy?"

"Yes Dean?"

"This conversation never happened. You tell anyone we had this much of a chick flick moment, I will kick you ass." Dean smirked at Sam, and they both walked back inside, and everything was all right again.

November 2005

Dean didn't know how to help Sam. He could feel Sam disappearing after Jessica died. He wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating, and he was leaving the motel for hours on end without telling Dean where he was going. He was crying in the shower, trying to hide his sadness, and he was shutting Dean out. Coming home often with the smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke on his breath.

Dean woke up early one morning, and noticed Sam was not in the room. He slipped on his jeans and walked out to the parking lot. And there was Sam leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette, just like he was 6 years earlier. Dean sat down next to Sam, and stared at his brother who refused to meet his eye.

"So we are back to this again Sammy?" Dean said. "Pretending like this actually helps? I thought you quit this shit when you were a teenager." Sam looked up at him with heat behind his eyes then looked away again.

"I did." He said. "Then I went to Stanford, and started again." Dean quirked an eyebrow at his brother.

"Why start again? You were a grumpy pain in the ass the first time you quit."

"I didn't feel like I owed it to you anymore. I didn't quit because I wanted to, I quit because you asked me. Same as consuming mass quantities of whiskey. It made me feel better, but I stopped for you." Sam took another drag and leaned against the wall as he let it out.

"So what? Because you didn't have to look at me everyday, you figured it was okay to start all this bullshit again?" Sam stood up and looked down at Dean with anger in his eyes.

"You made me promise that day, I would never say goodbye to you, that I would never disappear on you. Then when I left, I didn't hear from you again, and then when I did it was to go on a hunt. And now my girlfriends dead, I am back looking for the same son of a bitch we have been hunting out whole lives and you are gonna sit there and give me shit about smoking a cigarette and having a couple of drinks? You got your say back then, and I listened to you, but then you disappeared on me. You lost the right to give me any input on my life." Dean stood up so he could look his brother in the eye.

"Listen to me Sam, I didn't disappear on you, I was still right here. But I also knew that I had to stay away because you didn't want this life. I mean, look what happened? I came to you for help, and now Jess is dead and you are right back in the same place that I did not want you. I am sorry for that Sammy. I did not want this for you." Sam turned away from Dean attempting to hold in the tears.

"I am not mad at you Dean, what happened to Jess is not your fault. I am sorry, I should not be lashing out at you. But I need some kind of vice in the crazy world, and this works for me." Dean put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Sammy, I know you are angry. You have every right to be. God, I am angry too. We have the weight of the world on our shoulders. It isn't fair, but we have to carry it. I am sorry that you have been dragged back into this world. When we find who killed Jess and Mom, I promise I will give you every opportunity to leave, and make a better life for yourself. But I can't keep that promise if you go into liver failure before we get there." Sam turned around and looked at his brother.

"I will cut back on the drinking Dean, and I will try to cut down on the smoking too. But I can't promise I can give it all up."

Honestly little brother, that is good enough for me. As long as we make it through this war in one piece." Sam laughed at that.

"Dean, promise me something."

"Okay…"

"If there comes a time when I need to leave again, don't disappear on me. If the last four years have taught me anything, it is that I need my family in my life."

"Okay Sammy, you have my word, now, no more chick flick moments." Sam laughed, gave his brother a hug and they walked back into the motel room. They had a hell of a fight ahead of them, more then they knew, but for now, everything was all right again.


End file.
